


Wake Up Call

by lazbobthing



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Don't fuck with Iron Bull's Kadan, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nothing like a sword through your lover's gut to make you think about things, Qunari are tougher then humans, Violence, Worried Iron Bull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazbobthing/pseuds/lazbobthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go south in Crestwood, when trying to clear out a group of bandits, and the Inquisitor is wounded near fatally. Iron Bull Greatly Disapproves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up Call

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Bleeding out on the ground, a dull roaring in his ears, time slowing down around him.   
It was supposed to be a simple raid, a camp of bandits that was too close to New Crestwood. Lazarus had ventured forth with Dorian, Solas, and his lover, Iron Bull.  
They’d gotten the drop on the bandits, the Inquisitor leaping forth from invisibility to slit the throats of two archers, while Solas and Dorian sent ice and flame spiraling through the air, and Bull charged with a mighty roar at the leader, a massive man in armor.   
Lazarus never saw the hit coming, a battle lust cackle leaving his throat as he spun through the air, blades flashing and slicing.  
A choked scream rent the air, as a blinding agony filled him, his movement halted entirely. Glancing down, he stared numbly at the blade that protruded from his gut, dimly aware of Bull screaming his name.  
He felt bile and blood rushing up his throat, and coughed wetly, blood coating his lips, as he fell to his knees, his attacker pulling the blade free with a sickening sound. There was a far away thud, and he  blinked sluggishly, watching as a human head rolled by him.  
He faintly recognized his name, and realized he was being lifted, cradled in someone’s arms. He lifted his gaze, and found himself staring dazedly up at a visibly devastated Bull.   
He frowned, and reached up with a bloody hand, to touch Bull’s cheek.  
“S’…S'gonna be okay, Kad'n.” He slurred with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, vision going black at the edges.  
His last glimpse was of a screaming Bull, before his eyelids slid closed and it all went black.  
———————-  
Lazarus opened his eyes, to find himself in his quarters at Haven.  
This was impossible, considering that Haven was still for the most part, buried under snow.  
He let out a quiet groan, as he attempted to rise, a callused touching his abdomen. He glanced down, gingerly running his fingers over the gratuitous amount of bandages, wrapped round his shirtless torso.  
“Lazarus…” His head shot up, as a faint echo of a voice drifted into hearing. It sounded like…Solas?  
The rogue slowly rose from his bed, wincing at a dull bolt of agony in his navel, and trudged out of the cabin.  
Haven wasn’t as he remembered it, confirming the sneaking suspicion that he was in the Fade.  A opaque mist obscured everything but the path he walked on.   
“Lazarus!” He jumped back, as Solas suddenly burst from the mist, looking harried and haggard.  
“We’re in the Fade again, aren’t we? What happened?” The inquisitor asked quietly, unsettled at the way Solas’ shoulders sagged with relief at the sight of him.   
“Do you recall our venture in Crestwood? The bandits?” Solas demanded roughly, stepping forward and putting his hands on Lazarus’ shoulders.   
“Yes? I-” He paused, face falling.   
“Am I dead, Solas?” Lazarus gazed at the Elf, numb.  
“No! No, my friend, you are not dead yet. You have been asleep for a week,” Solas reassured him, “You were near death, it took a great deal of work from myself, Dorian, and the healers to keep you alive. Please, my friend, you need to wake up.” Solas pleaded, with a desperation in his eyes.   
“How?” Lazarus stared dumbly at him. Solas closed his eyes and heaved a long sigh, struggling to regain his composure.  
“I will help you.” The Elf told him softly, “But you must trust me. It is dangerous for you to slumber any longer. The Iron Bull is going near mad worrying over you, he hasn’t left your side."   
Bull.  
Maker, how could he had forgotten?   
"I trust you with all my heart, Solas.” Lazarus told him firmly, straightening his back, and meeting the Elf’s eyes.  
Solas gazed at him as if he’d never seen him before, eyes widening minutely, and shoulders stiff.   “I am…Honored by your trust in me.” Solas said thickly, an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes.  
“Okay?” Lazarus replied uncertainly, arching an eyebrow at the other man, who let out a strained chuckle.  
“I’ve missed your smart mouth,” Solas muttered, pressing his index and middle fingers to Lazarus’ temples.   
“We can discuss your love for my mouth later,” Lazarus resisted the urge to fidget, feeling a strange energy come from the Mage, but he didn’t resist the urge to smirk when Solas spluttered at him.  
Goosebumps rose up his spine, as a heady pulse seemed to echo from the elf into him, Solas’ hands glowing a vivid green at his peripherals. He made to jump away, a yell strangled and mute in his throat, as suddenly a massive wolf stood before him, its mammoth maw open to reveal rows of dagger like teeth.  
He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t-  
Lazarus’ eyes snapped open, a choked gasp leaving him as he made to bolt upright. He found himself unable to, two giant, familiar hands moving to pin him down as a massive shadow loomed above.  
“Kadan!” A haggard Iron Bull whispered, hands moving to cup the Inquisitor’s face in his hands. Lazarus melted, smiling tiredly up at the Qunari.  
“You look like shit.” He informed his lover, who laughed helplessly.   
“You look beautiful as ever, Kadan.” Bull murmured, pressing his forehead against Lazarus’ own, gazing at him like a man starved.  
“I nearly lost you. I’ve told you, over and over, to wear better armor, you can’t rely on speed and luck-” Bull stopped himself, exhaling a long breath.  
“I’m sorry.” Lazarus gazed up at him, lifting a hand and placing it over one of Bull’s own.  
“Yeah, you should be.” The Qunari crowded him down onto the bed again, hands sliding down to hold the rogue’s hips, as Bull looked him over with a critical eye. “How do you feel?” Bull asked carefully, glaring at the bandages that covered his abdomen.  
“Tired, a little sore,” Lazarus answered, after a moment of consideration, moving one of his freed wrists to place his hand over the bandages, pressing down gently. “Ow.” He added, flinching slightly at the action.  
Iron Bull just gave him an unimpressed look, arching an eyebrow. Lazarus gave him a sheepish grin, and removed his hand, instinctually moving both his arms to rest above his head. He blushed when he realized what he’d done, the primally pleased look in Bull’s eye didn’t help matters either.  
“As soon as you’re back on your feet, you’re going to be in the yard with me every day.” Iron Bull told him firmly, sitting up on his knees. “We’re going to train, so that this never happens again, do you understand?” He fixed Lazarus with a unyielding stare, his expression intense. Lazarus frowned up at his lover, unsettled by the raw emotion he saw in Bull’s eye.  
“Bull…” He murmured, slowly sitting up and meeting his lover’s gaze. “I’m going to die someday-“ He tried to reason, only to be pinned down again, his wrists held in one hand, Bull’s other hand gripping his chin.  
“Not if I can help it!” Bull rumbled, covering Lazarus like a blanket. Lazarus squirmed to no avail in his grip, and stilled at a growl from the Qunari, who was staring at him.  
“I’m okay, Bull.” The inquisitor said softly, merely staring up at him with a calm expression. Bull's face crumpled, and he collapsed on top of the rogue, mumbling in his native tongue.  
"I'm okay."


End file.
